


Cold

by fuckthenaysayers



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:38:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/947093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckthenaysayers/pseuds/fuckthenaysayers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael has a cold. Gavin's at a loss on how to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold

"Michael? Are you okay? Michael? Mikey wikey? Michael Vincent Jones?"

"Goddamn Gavin shut up already. I’m clearly not okay, if you didn’t notice the fact that I’m still in bed with a thermometer in my mouth." The thermometer beeped, as if on cue, and Michael took it out and looked at it. He scowled, glaring at Gavin. “Now I gotta fucking do it again because you made me talk and fuck it up!" He stuck it back in his mouth as Gavin fidgeted nearby, worried.

He’d never had to take care of a sick person before. Usually he was the one getting taken care of. His mind was racing as he tried to remember what his dad used to do for him when he was sick, quietly panicking next to Michael as the man eyed him suspiciously. The thermometer beeped and he took it out, glancing at the display which read 100. He sighed, setting it to the side and looking at his worrying boyfriend. “Stop looking like someone just handed you a helpless baby to care for forever. I’ve been sick on my own before, just go to work. I’m staying home."

"But Michael, what if you need help or something happens?"

"…. Gavin we live literally across the street from work. You can be here in a couple minutes if I need you."

Gavin didn’t look too convinced, but he knew he couldn’t argue with Michael when he was sick like this. It felt wrong. “Okay Michael." He said with a defeated sigh, getting ready for work. He brought the other some juice and water, setting it on the nightstand, along with every cold medicine he could find in their cabinets.

"Okay Michael I’m leaving now! Call or text me if you need anything. Literally anything. Okay? Michael?"

"I get it Gavin, go to fucking work already!" Michael groaned from the bedroom, Gavin pouting at the front door in front of him, still reluctant to leave. He did, eventually, looking distraught as he got into work.

"Where’s Michael, Gav?" Geoff asked, patting the man’s shoulder as he walked into the office.

"He’s home sick, Geoff! I’m really worried about him but he forced me to go to work. What if he needs me? What if he gets hungry? He can’t cook in his condition." Geoff chuckled, this is just how he’d picture Gavin being if Michael ever got sick, and it happened to be spot on.

"Well, how about you head over there at lunch time to check up on him, and make him some soup or something while you’re there?" Gavin was shocked at the perfect suggestion, his worried look being erased as he beamed.

"Thanks Geoff! I’ll do just that!"

Gavin felt much better, working properly until it was lunch time, anxiously watching as the clock on his computer hit noon. He stood up, grabbing what he needed. “Going to check on Michael and have lunch at home, lads. See you in an hour!" With that, the Brit was off, bounding out of the building and across the street to his and Michael's apartment. He went in as quietly as he could, tiptoeing into their bedroom.

Michael was asleep in the same spot he'd been when Gavin left, though the drinks were gone and a ring of tissues surrounded him. He looked flushed but calm, wearing far too serene a face for someone who made his living off of his pure fury and anger. Gavin wanted to kiss that sweet, gentle face, but he couldn't bring himself to possibly wake Michael up. So instead, he cleaned up the tissues and got Michael a new box of them, along with more water and juice on his nightstand.

He then went into the kitchen, intent on making the man some soup. A simple job, just open the can and dump it in a pot with some water and let it heat up. It'd be easy and quiet, and then hopefully Michael would wake up later to some warm soup. Of course, Gavin was a klutz and dropped the pot, making a horrible clatter which jolted Michael awake.

"Oh bollocks!" The Brit whimpered out. Michael rolled his eyes, closing them again and feigning sleep as the other man checked in to see if his ruckus woke him up. He sighed in relief when he saw Michael looking as content as before, heading back to make the food. He came in a while later, setting a bowl of hot soup on the nightstand. Looking at his sleeping lover, Gavin smiled, brushing a curl off the other's forehead and kissing it gently. "See you after work, Michael." he whispered, before once again reluctantly leaving the other and heading back.

When he heard the front door shut, Michael opened his eyes, sitting up and sighing. He spotted the soup next to him, along with a note, picking it up.

_'Mikey Wikey- hope this soup will help you feel a little better! I'll be home soon, don't miss me too much~_

_\- Gavvy Wavvy'_

"He dots his i's with hearts? Fucking dork. You didn't need to waste your lunch hour on me..." he mumbled to the man who was long gone, his blush and smile betraying his harsh words, setting the note down before picking up his soup and starting to eat.

Gavin was antsy at work once again, doing all he could to will the clock to move faster. Eventually time did finally pass, and it was time for work to end. Gavin left as soon as he could, once again sprinting across the street to his home, bursting into the apartment and tossing his stuff down. He rushed into the bedroom to find Michael awake, sitting up a little and watching TV. "Hey, welcome home." the seated man said quietly, still looking under the weather.

"Thanks. How are you feeling?"

"A little better. Took my temperature again, down to 98.8 or some shit like that."

Gavin nodded, glad to hear it. He walked over and kissed Michael's forehead, picking up after him as he did during lunch time. He was happy to see the soup bowl empty, far too pleased over the fact that Michael ate it, and brought the dirty dishes to the kitchen, washing up. He chilled out at his desk for a while, making him and Michael more soup for dinner, along with grilled cheese sandwiches, the two eating together in bed as they watched one of those creepy forensic shows Michael grew up watching.

Not the most appetite friendly show, but Gavin would let Michael watch anything he pleased, if it made him feel better. After dinner, Gavin cleaned up their dishes, and Michael snuck into the bathroom. He took a quick shower, rolling his eyes when he came face to face with an angry Gavin as he left the bathroom. "Michael, you should've told me you wanted to wash up! I would've helped!"

"I don't need help washing myself, thanks."

Gavin pouted until Michael dried off and got dressed, hugging the other. "Thanks... for uh, taking care of me I guess. It was nice not having to do everything myself." Michael mumbled, hiding his face in the crook of Gavin's neck. The other was smiling brightly as he hugged Michael tightly, the two pulling away a bit and smiling at each other. Gavin leaned in, pressing their noses together and giving Michael an eskimo kiss, which he returned, the two giggling like idiots over the sappy move. They went to bed together, and Michael silently promised to let Gavin take care of him fully next time he was sick, now feeling he could trust him with no worries. And the next time he felt ill, he did just that.


End file.
